Make You Feel My Love
by SarahandBabees
Summary: AH. When Clary's mother leaves, leaving only a note, she's confused. She's sent to live with people she doesn't know, one of which is an obnoxious blond. Will trouble follow her? Title - Make You Feel My Love by Adele. Lyrics are usually chapter names.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, my pretties :) no, I don't have my computer back yet, I'm still on junker. Luckily, I had emailed this to a friend, so I got it from my email! So here we are, and I'm finally giving you guys _something._ I have the second chapter too, but not the third. So review, my pretties! I hope you all like this, it started out as something to pass the time when I can't find any inspiration for other stories, but I really like it now! Oh, and I started yet another MI fic that I haven't had a chance to type, and maybe, just maybe, I'll give reviewers a summary :) And for anyone who reads Vampire Academy, I'm writing a one-shot...it's a really sad one, too. I cried a few times :'(**

**Anyways, enjoy, and review if you all love me!**

**-Sarah**

Make You Feel My Love  
Chapter One: When The Rain Is Blowing In Your Face

As Clary made her way home, she turned her collar up against the sudden chill. She glanced up at the sky and found it grey and angry looking. _Great,_ she thought. _It's going to rain and I'm not even halfway home._

Clary had been over at a friend's house. Her best friend, to be exact. Simon Lewis had been her best friend ever since she could remember. He'd been one of the few constants in Clary's life. _People come and go, but I always have Simon,_ she thought. She often found refuge at his house when things at hers got too crazy. Her parents were constantly fighting, and she knew that her mom was on the verge of leaving. She found herself wondering if her mom would even take her with her when she left. Only time would tell.

As the first drops of rain spattered onto her face, she scowled at the sky and pulled her collar tighter. _Why didn't I wear something with a hood?_ was all that ran through her head as she picked up her pace, weaving through the crowded streets of New York.

By the time she reached her home, she was soaking wet and looking like a drowned rat. Her fiery red hair clung to her face, droplets of water spilling onto the floor. She peeled her drenched sweater off and walked toward her room, muttering about checking the weather channel more often.

When she had changed into dry clothes and tied her hair up, she made her way out to the kitchen. From what she could tell, no one was home. Shrugging, she dug through the fridge and cupboards for something edible.

When she opened a cupboard, a piece of white paper fluttered out. Her name was written on it and, puzzled, she unfolded it. She recognized her mother's writing instantly, and her breathing picked up.

_Clary,_

_I'm so sorry I left. I had to, though. It was dangerous to stay any longer. You must think I'm a coward, and I feel terrible. I promise I'll come back for you, but for now, you need to get out of there. Remember where I told you to go if anything ever happened? Well, it's time to go there. You'll be well taken care of until I can come back for you. I know the owners well; you'll be safe._

_I love you. Mom_

Clary stood there for a few moments, frozen in place. She couldn't process what she had to do.

After a few more minutes, it finally sunk in. She had to get out of there, and fast. Crumpling the note, she ran to her room and began throwing random things into bags.

When she finished, she looked around her room. _It looks so bare, _she thought sadly. She'd lived in this room forever, and now she had to leave.

Reluctantly, she slung one bag over her shoulder and grabbed the other two and slipped her shoes on, turning her back on her childhood home.

* * *

"Guys, come to the kitchen! I made dinner!" Isabelle called from the kitchen.

Jace's eyes locked with Alec's, and they grimaced in unison. Isabelle Lightwood was many things, but she wasn't a cook.

Sighing, they left the library and made their way to the kitchen. The Lightwood home was gigantic, and had many rooms.

On their way to the kitchen, the phone started ringing. "You go ahead," Jace said to Alec. "I'll answer the phone and be right there."

Alec nodded and continued toward the kitchen, while Jace picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Um, hi. Would Robert or Maryse be there?" The voice on the other line was that of a woman, and she sounded slightly panicked.

"No, sorry. They're out of town. Who is this?"

"It's Jocelyn Fray."

Hearing the name, Jace stiffened. Maryse and Robert had explained to them what would happen if a woman named Jocelyn Fray ever called.

"I'm guessing that this is about your daughter, then?" Jace asked.

"How did—? You know what? Never mind. But yes, this is about Clary. She'll be there soon."

"Okay. We'll take care of her," Jace replied.

"Thank you—?"

"Jace. Jace Herondale."

"Okay, Jace. Please don't let anything happen to her. She's all I have."

"Don't worry about her; she's in good hands."

"Okay. Goodbye, Jace."

"Bye," he replied, hanging up the phone. He needed to get to Isabelle and Alec to tell them what was going on.

When he entered the kitchen, he was assailed by the scent of whatever Isabelle had cooked.

"Damn, Izzy. Did you kill something? It stinks in here," he muttered.

Isabelle scowled. "It's soup," she replied.

Jace waved his hand. "It's irrelevant right now. We have bigger problems."

"Like?" Alec asked.

"Jocelyn Fray just called."

He watched as Isabelle and Alec's faces shifted to identical masks of shock.

"Was it about—?"

"Yeah, it's about her daughter. Her mother said she'd be here soon."

Isabelle fluttered her hands. "I should get a room ready," she mumbled, moving toward the doorway.

"That's actually a good idea, Iz. You can do that while Alec and I head over to Taki's to get some real food. Don't worry, we'll get you something," he added.

Isabelle nodded and ran upstairs, while Jace and Alec grabbed their coats and umbrellas.

"Make sure you get something for Jocelyn's daughter!" Isabelle called as they walked out the door.

On their way to Taki's, they came across a small red-haired girl that was carrying bags being harassed by two older guys. Without a second thought, Jace strode over to them, grabbed the one closest to him, jerked him away and punched him square in the jaw. The guy recoiled, falling back and landing on his butt.

Without hesitation, he punched the second guy in the gut and landed a kick to his shin. The guy doubled over, shouting a string of curses. Then he, along with the other guy, got up and ran away.

Jace turned to look at the girl, who was staring at him in wonder. "Th-thank y-you," she stuttered, shivering.

Jace grinned. "No problem. Saving damsels in distress is what I do," he replied.

The girl scowled. "I'm no damsel," she muttered.

Jace raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry. I meant defenseless girls who are almost mugged on the streets of New York."

"I know I should be grateful to you right now, but you're pissing me off. So you know what? Screw you," she said before stalking away.

"Are you offering?" he called after her, smirking.

She turned, gave him the finger, then continued walking.

"Damn, what did I do?" he asked no one in particular.

Alec shook his head in amusement, and the two began walking again.

* * *

Clary arrived at her home for the time being a half hour later. The place was absolutely huge; she felt slightly intimidated by it.

Taking a deep breath, she rang the doorbell.

Moments later, the door opened.

The girl behind the door was beyond beautiful; she was extremely tall, she had flowing black hair, pale skin, and dark, mysterious eyes. She smiled, revealing perfect teeth.

"You must be Jocelyn's daughter. I'm Isabelle Lightwood," she said.

"My name is Clarissa, but call me Clary. Everyone does," Clary replied, shaking some hair out of her eyes.

"Clary. Got it," Isabelle said, motioning for Clary to come in. "My parents are out of town right now, along with my younger brother Max. Jace and Alec will be home soon, they just went to get some food. Alec is my older brother, and Jace is my . . . adoptive brother," she explained, taking one of Clary's bags.

"Sounds good," she mumbled as Isabelle led her upstairs. They stopped outside a door at the end of the hallway, and Isabelle opened it.

When Clary stepped inside the room, she held back a gasp. The room was beautiful, with cherry wood furniture. A large four poster bed was centered in the room, with big fluffy pillows and a big black blanket. The walls were painted dark red. There was a TV at the foot of the bed, and a door to an adjoining bathroom on the far wall.

"Wow," Clary murmured, gazing around the room in wonder.

Isabelle grinned. "Do you like it? I chose it for you."

She turned to the taller girl and smiled, nodding her head. "I love it. Thank you, Isabelle."

"No problem. Now, why don't you change out of those wet clothes and then come downstairs for some hot chocolate?"

"That would be great! I'll be right down," Clary replied. Isabelle nodded, and left the room.

Clary changed for the third time that day out of her clothes. After that, she made her way down the stairs and found her way to the kitchen, where Isabelle was making the hot chocolate. She smiled when Clary came in, handing her a steaming mug.

Clary accepted it gladly. "Thanks, Isabelle. I could use this after the day I've had."

The two walked over to the table. "Call me Izzy. And, wanna talk about it?" Isabelle asked, sitting down.

Clary plopped down, sighing. "Well, my day started out fine, just like any other. I went to Simon's for a few hours. Then I had to walk home through the pouring rain. Then I found a note from my mom telling me that she left, and that I had to come here. On my way here, I was almost mugged by two guys, and then the guy that saved me from them was a complete asshat," she explained.

Isabelle's eyes widened. "Yeah, that does sound pretty shitty."

Just then, voices floated into the house. One of them sounded familiar, though Clary couldn't identify it.

"That would be Jace and Alec with the food," Isabelle said, standing up. She grabbed some plates from the cupboard and set them on the table before grabbing some silverware.

When Isabelle's brothers came into the kitchen, Clary was shocked.

Standing before her was the obnoxious blond, along with a boy that looked almost exactly like Isabelle, other than the fact that his eyes were a mysterious dark blue.

The blond looked puzzled for a second, then grinned. "Well. You must be Clary. I didn't formally introduce myself before. My name is Jace."

Two words ran through Clary's head: _Ah, hell._

**_So how did you like it, my pretties? (I don't know why I keep calling you guys that, but whatever.) Let me know in a review :)_**

**_I'll try to update soon, k?_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Hello again, my pretties :) so here's the next chapter! I personally adore it, so I hope that you guys will too :D**_

_**~ I Heart Herondale Boys ~**_

Make You Feel My Love  
Chapter Two: When The Whole World Is On Your Case

When Jace walked into the kitchen with Alec, he was surprised to see that the small red-haired girl sat there. Then it clicked; she was Jocelyn's daughter, which explained why she was carrying bags back on the street.

He grinned. "Well. You must be Clary. I didn't formally introduce myself before. My name is Jace," he said, extending his hand.

She didn't take it.

Isabelle looked between the two, looking confused. "Before? When have the two of you ever met?" she asked.

"Isabelle, this is the asshat that saved me from the muggers," Clary replied through her teeth.

Isabelle shook her head. "I should have known it was you, Jace."

Completely ignoring Isabelle, he looked at Clary. "Asshat?" he asked, amused.

Clary stuck her chin out. "Yes, asshat. That's what you are."

"I've never heard that word in my life. If it weren't for the word 'ass' in it, I'd think that you were complimenting me," Jace said, smirking.

"Dear God, you're so damn full of yourself!" Clary exclaimed angrily.

"Everybody stop! God, you two are worse than cats and dogs!" Isabelle said, stepping between them.

He grinned. "Who, me and Clary? Nah, we're buddies. Right, Clary?"

Clary glared at him. "Screw off, Jace."

Jace just smirked, while Clary glared at him some more.

A few moments of silence later, Alec spoke up. "Um, how about we eat before the food gets cold?" he asked, glancing nervously between the two.

"Food sounds good to me," Jace said, fishing his food from his bag and emptying it onto a plate.

He sat beside Clary, because he knew that it would annoy her. And man, he just couldn't resist!

Dinner had been a quiet affair. As she ate, Clary had glared at Jace, who was—very piggishly—stuffing his face. She couldn't believe that she had to live with him for God knows how long. Isabelle and Alec were okay; Isabelle seemed like a nice enough person, and Alec was really quiet.

But Jace . . . he was a whole different story. He was rude, sarcastic and insensitive. She wished that her mom would just come back for her.

When Clary got up to put her plate in the sink, Isabelle grabbed her arm. "You have two hours to do whatever you want, okay?"

Clary's eyebrows shot up. "Why?"

Isabelle grinned. "We're going to a party and it starts in four hours."

"Then shouldn't I have like, three and a half hours to do whatever?"

Isabelle looked appalled. "And leave only a half hour to get ready?"

Clary looked down at what she was wearing. "I was just going to wear what I have on."

Isabelle shook her head. "No way. I'm going to help you get ready, whether you like it or not. So two hours," she said firmly.

Clary sighed. "Fine, Izzy." She saw no point in arguing, since she had a feeling that it was a battle lost before it even started.

Isabelle smiled and clapped her hands. "This is gonna be so much fun!"

Clary rolled her eyes and made her way up to her temporary room.

She plopped down on her bed and pulled her sketchpad and pencils from her messenger bag. She let her mind wander, and her hand started moving of its own accord.

When she really looked at what she'd drawn, she was horrified.

There, on her page, was Jace.

She dug through her bag for an eraser, but stopped. The drawing was one of her best, and, while Jace was a complete ass, she couldn't deny that he was good looking. Perfect for drawing. His angular face, his golden curls, his strange tawny eyes . . . he could have been an angel.

Without thinking, she began to sketch angel wings on him. It made the drawing complete.

She set her sketchpad aside and pulled a pillow over her head to muffle her scream of frustration. Why had she drawn him? Ever since he'd saved her, he'd been nothing but rude to her.

"Tough day?" said a low voice, sounding amused.

Clary pulled the pillow from her face to find Jace standing in her doorway, smirking at her. "Ever heard of knocking?" she asked in annoyance. "For all you know, I could have been naked."

One of Jace's perfectly arched eyebrows shot up, instantly making Clary jealous. She'd always wanted to be able to do that. "Well, that would've been a sight to see," he replied, standing up straight.

"Do you have nothing better to do, Jace? My day has been bad enough without you and your asshattyness."

"There you go again, making up words. I ought to get you a dictionary so that you can find proper words to use instead of inventing ones that make absolutely no sense."

With a cry of frustration, Clary chucked her pillow at Jace, aiming for his face. He stepped out of the way quickly, making the pillow land in the hallway. "Argh! You're so frustrating!" Clary growled.

"It's in the job description."

"Get the hell out of my room, Jace. Just get out," she snarled.

"Oooh, scary!" Jace joked. "I'm curious, Clary. Why are you here?" he asked.

Clary stuck her chin out. "That's none of your business."

Jace sauntered over to a chair, plopping down. "Oh, but it is. Is some crazy murderer after you? Do you owe people money? Did you escape from aliens that are now looking for you to take you back to the mothership to conduct experiments on you?"

Clary shook her head in exasperation. "Do you ever take anything seriously?"

Jace tapped his chin, seemingly thinking about it. He tilted his head to the side. "Hmm . . . nope," he replied, popping the 'p'.

Clary rolled her eyes. Then she sighed. "To tell you the truth, I have no idea. Mom never told me anything, just where I had to go if something ever happened. I have no clue what 'something' is."

For a split second, Jace actually looked apologetic, but his face went back to what Clary guessed was its normal mask of cool indifference. "Sucks to be you, I guess."

Clary gritted her teeth. "You're such an ass! Get. Out. Now!" she hissed.

Jace held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay! Jesus, no need to bite my head off!" he exclaimed.

Clary glared at him again until he retreated, closing the door behind him.

She sunk down into the pillows, feeling like a deflated balloon. She wanted to just crawl into a hole until this whole ordeal was over.

_Maybe I'm dreaming. Maybe I fell asleep at Simon's, and when I wake up, everything will be okay. Mom will be waiting for me at home, and my life will go on normally,_ she thought. _But I highly doubt that._

Two hours later, Clary sat in Isabelle's room as she fussed over her, doing her hair and makeup. She just let her, seeing no point in fighting. Plus, she seemed to be having fun, so Clary didn't complain.

An hour later, Isabelle finished with her. She looked in the mirror, her jaw dropping. _What the hell?_ she thought as she stared at the person in the mirror. It definitely wasn't her. The person in the mirror was too beautiful to be her! Her eyes were lined with black, mascara lengthening her lashes, smoky shadow covering the lids, making her eyes—that were that same emerald green as hers, but she refused to believe it was her―look big and round. Her skin looked flawless, her lips full and pouty looking. Her hair was straight, the red vibrant and shiny, bumped up in the back.

"Do you like it?" asked Isabelle, who was biting her lip anxiously.

"I'm having a hard time believing that it's me," Clary admitted, blinking in astonishment.

Isabelle laughed. "Believe it. That sexy thing in the mirror is you."

Clary burst out laughing at Isabelle's wording. "Thanks, Izzy. But I still have no idea what I'm going to wear," she said, her face falling.

Isabelle smiled mischievously. "No worries, I have the perfect thing for you."

Clary's eyebrows shot up. "No offense, but I don't think anything of yours would fit me. You're much taller and . . . um, filled out in the chest area."

Isabelle laughed again. "Like I said, no worries." She dashed over to her closet and pulled out something small, black, clingy-looking and embarrassing to even look at.

Clary eyed it sceptically. "I don't know about this . . ."

Isabelle rolled her eyes and shoved it into Clary's arms, along with some fishnet stockings. "Just put it on, Clary. And don't you _dare_ mess up your hair or makeup, because I don't have time to fix it. _I_ have to get ready too, you know."

Sighing, she let Isabelle push her into the bathroom.

She pulled the outfit on carefully, succeeding in not ruining anything. She looked in the mirror, her eyes widening. The "dress" barely covered her, and she found herself wanting to grab a giant sweater to cover herself up.

Taking a deep breath, she left Isabelle's bathroom.

Isabelle squealed when she saw her. "Oh, my God! This is my best work ever!" she exclaimed, clapping happily. She thrust some black heels into Clary's arms, instructing her to put them on. She acquiesced, slipping them on. "Perfect!" Isabelle said, grinning. Clary noticed that she was wearing a tight, dark blue dress that clung to her, showing off her curves. She turned back to the mirror to continue doing her hair.

Clary walked over and sat on Isabelle's bed, waiting patiently for the other girl to finish.

When she did, they had a half hour to get to the party.

Isabelle hooked her arm through Clary's and they walked downstairs together, where the guys were waiting.

"Isabelle you look nice, Clary . . . whoa. You don't even look like you," Jace said, his eyes widening as they passed over Clary.

Clary felt a blush rise to her cheeks as Jace's eyes raked almost hungrily over her. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

Jace raised an eyebrow. "I dunno. You're beautiful no matter what, but . . . wow."

Clary's eyes widened in shock. _Did he just say that I was beautiful?_ she asked herself. "Um, thanks?" she replied, still half in shock.

"Can we go? I just wanna get this over with," Alec complained, folding his arms over his chest.

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a downer, Alec. This is gonna be fun! We're going to a party at _Magnus Bane's._ He throws the hottest parties in New York! We're lucky that we're even invited!" she exclaimed.

Alec sighed. "Whatever. Let's just go."

They all left, Isabelle walking with Alec, while Jace hung back a few paces to walk with Clary.

She glanced up at him. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked quietly.

"Sure," Jace replied breezily, grinning down at her. "Why, you don't believe me?"

She shook her head. "My mom's the only one who's ever called me beautiful, but she's required to think that, as my mother. Plus, I find it hard to believe anything that comes out of your mouth."

Jace pouted. "Am I really that bad?"

Clary cast him a sidelong glance, as if to say _Yeah, you really are._

"Well damn!" he exclaimed.

Clary laughed. "You don't have to be such an ass all the time, you know. You _could_ try being nice once in a while."

Jace pretended to be horrified at the thought. "_Me? NICE?_ Yeah, right!"

Clary grinned, elbowing him in the ribs.

Without really realizing it, she found herself starting to actually like Jace.

_**So, how was it? I love Jace sooooo much XD Do you guys think I captured his personality well? If not, help me improve! Constructive criticism is very welcome in this story :) I just want to know what's on your minds when you read this! So please, review!**_

_**I won't be able to update in a while, because the next chapter is on my other computer, which is currently in possession of my father :l**_

_**Oh, and if anyone reads Kissed By An Angel, check out my oneshot, please! It's LaceyxTristan :) it's called Angels Cry.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: Great news! I got my computer back! Therefore, I am updating this story :) Things happen in this chapter...some of the storyline comes in. I hope you guys like it!_**

**_~I Heart Herondale Boys~_**

Make You Feel My Love  
Chapter Three: Valentine?

Clary wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to warm herself as Isabelle walked up the stairs and rang the doorbell. Above the door, she could see the words **The Magnificent** carved in the wood.

The door opened moments later, revealing a tall man. His eyes were greenish-gold, his black hair was gelled up in spikes, his skin was the color of warm honey and he was absolutely _covered_ in glitter. His almond shaped eyes were heavily covered with makeup, he wore a skin-tight black sequined vest and rainbow leather pants.

Isabelle held out her invitation. "I brought some people . . . I hope that isn't a problem," she said, batting her eyelashes.

The man grinned. "No problem, darling. Come in, come in!" he exclaimed. "Enjoy my party!"

_Ah, so that's Magnus Bane. Not at all how I imagined him,_ Clary thought. She glanced up at Jace, who looked like he was trying to hold back laughter. Smiling and shaking her head, she followed everyone inside.

Clary guessed that Magnus _loved_ glitter, seeing as every surface of his apartment—and self―was coated in it.

A girl approached them, carrying a tray of drinks. Clary didn't have to ask if they were alcoholic or not—she just _knew_ they were.

When the girl offered one to Clary, she was ready to say no―she was, after all, only fifteen. _Screw it,_ she thought, accepting it. _I've had a bad day._ Jace's eyebrows shot up at this, but Clary only grinned at him. She downed the drink quickly, trying to keep a straight face. It was hard because the drink burned her throat like hell, but she managed, reaching for another drink.

After she'd downed her third and was reaching for a fourth, Jace grabbed her wrist. "Easy there, Clary. I think you've had enough," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Clary giggled. "Who? _Me?_ Pfft, I can handle it, Jacie."

Jace raised an eyebrow at her. "Jacie?"

She nodded, still giggling. "Uh-huh. Jacie-Lacie-Macie-Pacie!"

Jace pressed his lips tightly together to keep from laughing. "Okay, Clary."

She looked hurt. "No nickname for me?" she asked sadly, looking up at him through long eyelashes.

He pursed his lips. "Hmm . . . how about Drunky?"

She scowled. "_No._ You're no fun, Jacie."

He chuckled. "Believe me, I'm fun."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really, now?"

"Yes, but I don't feel the need to prove it to you yet."

She rolled her eyes and stumbled off, looking for another drink.

Jace watched her walk away with faint amusement. She was completely hammered.

Reaching for a drink of his own, his eyes swept over the crowd, taking in all of the freaks at the party. Some people were so _weird._ He spied a girl with fake fairy wings strapped to her back with pink hair that had flowers woven through it. _Some people,_ he thought, shaking his head.

Suddenly, the sound of feedback from a microphone filled the room, causing people to cover their ears. He glanced up at the stage to find Clary, struggling to stay upright, clutching the microphone. He saw that the microphone was plugged into a karaoke machine.

"Everyone SHUT UP!" Clary shouted, causing all eyes to swivel up to the stage. Once she was satisfied that everyone was paying attention, she spoke again. "I wanna dedicate this song to Jacie, who has yet to show me how fun he his." Then she dropped a glittery wink at him, and he grinned.

Then, "Blow" by Ke$ha flooded through the speakers, and Clary sang along. Jace watched as she strutted around the stage, swaying with the music.

The girl had no idea how attractive she was.

When the song ended, she sauntered—well, she stumbled and almost fell, but that's irrelevant―off the stage towards Jace, but was stopped when a dark-haired boy stepped in her way.

Jace's protectiveness that he already felt for the small girl kicked in, and he jogged over and grabbed the shoulder of the guy who was blocking her path. He jerked him back, making him almost fall.

"Simon!" Clary exclaimed, reaching for him.

"Jeez, man! What was that for?" the dark-haired boy—Simon―asked angrily, straightening his glasses.

Jace turned to Clary. "You know him?"

She nodded. "He's my best friend Simon. Simon, this is Jace. I live with him now."

Simon's jaw dropped. "When exactly did you plan on telling me that you were moving in with some dyed-blond asshole?"

Jace turned back to Simon. "Excuse me, but my hair is natural. And she didn't really have the chance, since it was a surprise to her. To all of us," he replied coolly, staring him right in the eyes.

Simon ignored him. "Clary?"

"Jace is right, Simon. I meant to call you, but I was settling in," she said, resting her hand on his forearm. "Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing to him? He's not your babysitter," Jace muttered.

Simon glared intensely at Jace, which he returned.

Clary stepped between them, putting a hand on both of their chests. "Cool it. Jace, just shut up. Simon is my best friend, and he was worried about me." She turned to Simon. "And you. Be nice to Jace, he saved me from being mugged earlier. He was just looking out for me."

Both men sighed in resignation, muttering "Yeah, whatever".

"Clary! Jace! There you guys are!" Isabelle exclaimed, pushing through the crowd to get to them. She noticed Simon. "Who's this?" she asked.

"Isabelle, this is my best friend Simon. Simon, this is Isabelle Lightwood. She's Jace's adoptive sister," Clary replied.

Isabelle grinned and held out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Jace had to hold back his laughter as he watched Simon stare at Isabelle with a look of admiration on his face. He knew that Isabelle would eat him for dinner.

Simon shook her hand. "N-nice to meet you too," he stuttered.

She pulled him over. "Let's dance!" she said enthusiastically before dragging him over where other people danced.

Jace swept a bow to Clary. "Care to dance, Drunky?" he asked, smirking.

Clary rolled her eyes, but let him lead her to the others.

"I'll show you how fun I can be," he whispered before ducking behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and swinging her around a few times. He grinned as she giggled uncontrollably, begging him to put her down.

He acquiesced, not wanting her to puke on his shoes.

Still wanting to humor her, he started dancing like a freak, making her giggle even more.

"You're so messed," she said through the giggles once he stopped.

He shrugged. "Maybe. But at least I'm fun."

She nodded, smiling. "Yeah, you proved it."

Suddenly, her skin turned greenish. "Uh-oh," she mumbled, turning to run for the bathroom.

Jace watched her go, sighing. _She's going to have the worst hangover tomorrow,_ he thought, shaking his head.

When she got into the bathroom, Clary promptly threw up in the toilet, her entire body convulsing. She suddenly wished that she hadn't drank so much, because it was starting to catch up with her.

Once she was finished, she wiped her mouth and splashed some water on her face. Thankfully, Isabelle had used waterproof stuff on her, so her makeup wasn't ruined.

As she was turning the doorknob, the door flew open, and she squeaked in surprise. A man burst in the room, and Clary recognized him instantly as one of the men who'd tried to mug her earlier that day.

She began backing away, needing to get as far away from him as possible. But her back hit a wall, and she was trapped.

The man grinned, and it chilled her to the bone.

"Ah, here you are. Valentine will be so pleased," he said, stepping closer.

Clary whimpered. "Who's Valentine?"

He laughed. "You'll find out soon enough."

With that, he knocked her over the head, and everything went dark.

**_God, I'm evil :) haha never fear, I'll update soon!_**

**_Review and tell me what you thought!_**

**_-Sarah_**


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N: Hello again, my pretties! Sorry I took so long, my netbook is being dumb :l I hope you all like this chapter! Next one is all written up, so reviews will get it up faster!_**

**_~I Heart Herondale Boys~_**

Make You Feel My Love  
Chapter Four: I Could Offer You A Warm Embrace

Jace noticed that Clary had been gone for a while, and he became worried. He began pushing his way through the packed crowd of sweaty dancers to the bathroom, where she was supposed to be.

He found it empty.

Well, other than a folded piece of paper.

Gingerly, he reached out to grab and unfold it.

The note read:

_Don't bother looking for Clarissa. You won't find her._

Jace's eyes widened, and a feeling of dread spread through him. Clary was _gone_; no, she'd been _taken._

Numbly, he made his way out of the bathroom and over to where Isabelle was dancing with Ratface—well, Simon, but Jace preferred to think of him as Ratface—and held the note out to her.

She looked confused. "What's this, Jace?" she asked.

"Just read it!" he shouted over the blaring music.

Isabelle nodded, and her eyes scanned over the short note, widening when she finished. "Clary—Oh God, Jace," she murmured, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. "What do we do?"

Jace pinched the bridge of his nose. He was starting to get a headache. "I don't know, Izzy."

Simon looked back and forth between the two. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Wordlessly, Isabelle held the note out to him.

When he finished, he dropped the note, looking pale. "Oh, shit!" he exclaimed. "Oh my God, oh God . . ." he mumbled.

Jace leaned down to pick up the note, then grabbed Isabelle's arm. He pulled her over to where Alec stood, talking to Magnus. He noticed, with a hint of disdain, that Simon had followed.

"Alec, we have to go. _Now,_" he said, his voice urgent.

"Why?" Alec asked, tearing his gaze from the tall, glittery host.

"Someone took Clary," Isabelle put in impatiently, tapping her foot.

"Oh. Well, yeah, then." He turned to Magnus. "Mags, did you see the little red-head with anyone other than us?"

Silently, Magnus pulled all of them to his bedroom.

If this hadn't been a dire situation, Jace would have commented that he wasn't up for a gang-bang. Instead, he stayed silent.

Magnus spoke. "I did, but trust me when I say that you _really_ don't want to go after her," he said gravely.

Jace wasn't having that. "Why the hell not?" he asked angrily.

"She was with Valentine Morgenstern's men."

Jace stiffened at the name, but no one seemed to notice.

"So?" Isabelle asked.

"You shouldn't get yourselves involved in this. Valentine is extremely dangerous."

Jace cleared his throat. "I don't care," he said indignantly. "I promised Jocelyn that I'd take care of Clary, and I don't break my promises."

Magnus sighed. "Listen, Blondie—" "—Jace" "Jace, Blondie, same difference. But, are you sure?"

Jace nodded. He'd never been so sure in his life. The need to protect the small, beautiful, fiery-haired girl with an equally hot temper was overwhelming.

Magnus sighed. "Fine. I guess I have no other choice than telling you where Valentine most likely is taking her." Magnus proceeded to give them an address in Brooklyn.

"Be careful," he warned the group. "I don't need your deaths on my hands."

They all nodded. "Thank you, Magnus," Jace said quietly.

"No problem. Oh, and, Allie?" he said, turning to Alec. He winked. "Call me." Alec blushed furiously, but nodded. Izzy and Jace knew that he was gay, but their parents still didn't.

As they were turning to leave, Magnus stopped them again. "Oh, one more thing?"

Jace sighed in exasperation. "What, Magnus?"

"Clary is . . . Valentine's daughter."

The room was silent, save for the music blasting outside the bedroom door.

It was broken by Simon. _"WHAT?"_ he screeched.

"Jesus, are you deaf? I said that Clary is Valentine's daughter," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"But . . . but . . . I thought that Luke was Clary's father!" Simon exclaimed. He was pale as sheet.

Magnus shook his head. "Jocelyn married Luke when Clary was a baby. I'm sure that she believes wholeheartedly that Luke is her father, but he isn't."

Isabelle eyed him. "How do you know all of this?" she asked. Jace had been about to ask the same thing.

"Honey, I know everything," Magnus replied mysteriously, winking.

Izzy rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Thanks for the info and the party, Mags."

Magnus grinned. "Anytime, Iz. Now go and save your little friend from the clutches of the bad, bad men."

Without sticking around to hear any more, Jace took off, running as fast as he could. The others didn't have a chance of catching up with him, but it didn't matter. Only saving Clary mattered.

He paused after a while, listening. He thought he'd heard something . . . yes. There is was. A high-pitched whimpering noise, and a harsher, male voice.

Jace's eyes widened, and he took off in the direction of the noise.

He found Clary in an alley, a tall, muscular man hulking over her small form. The dress was torn to shreds, and she had a nasty looking bruise on her temple, and smaller bruises dotted her arms.

"Please don't do this," she begged, tears streaming down her pale, beautiful face.

The man laughed. "Sorry, dollface"—his accent was that of a typical New-Yorker—"but I can't resist. You're too pretty for your own good. Valentine'll have my head, but, hey, at least I get some fun first."

"Please," she reiterated, whimpering pathetically.

Jace chose the moment that the man slid his finger beneath one of Clary's bra straps to intervene.

"Get. Your. Filthy. Hands. Away. From. Her," he snarled.

The man looked up in surprise, and Jace saw that it was one of the men from earlier.

"Jace," Clary breathed, sounding amazed.

"Shut up!" the man growled, slapping her across the face with enough force to send her flying into the wall.

Jace roared with anger, his rage levels off the charts. He charged at the slime-ball, tackling him to the ground. He threw multiple punches to the guy's face until he was unconscious, his face covered in blood.

Wiping the blood from his hands, he went over to check on Clary. Her eyes were closed, her body crumpled against the wall. Jace swore softly, pulling his shirt off to slip it over her head. She moaned softly at the movement, sounding pained.

He lifted her gently, and she moaned again, louder this time. He sat against the wall, holding her tightly to his chest.

He watched her eyes flutter open, and promptly fill with tears. She buried her face in his chest, and he felt her tears against his bare skin.

"Jace—_Oh my God,_ Jace. I—He was going to _rape_ me, Jace. Oh God," she whimpered.

He stroked her hair soothingly until she began hiccupping.

"Thank you," she whispered. "God, Jace, if you wouldn't have gotten there when you did—"

Jace's finger over her lips silenced her. "Shh, don't think about that. The important thing is that you're okay now, Clare." Biting his lip, he asked, "_Are_ you okay?"

Sniffling, she nodded. "I'm just glad you got there before he could actually do anything other than hit me."

Gingerly, Jace grabbed her arm, holding it out so that he could inspect it. Bruises blossomed along the length of it, making Jace's blood boil.

He took a calming breath. "Just don't think about it, okay? I was there, and I got you in time."

Clary nodded and sat up on his knee, hugging him tightly. When she pulled back, there was something intense in her green eyes.

He knew what she was going to do before she did it, so he met her halfway.

She may have tasted like alcohol, but her lips were warm, soft, and the best thing he'd ever felt on his. Clary was different from any other girl he'd kissed—which was saying something, because there was a long list. He felt the connection on a deeper level—and it scared him.

_To love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be destroyed._

The phrase left his mind as Clary began trailing her fingers up and down his bare chest, sending tingles through his veins and shivers down his spine.

Yes, Clarissa Fray was definitely different from the others.

**_So? Was it okay? I have the flu and I've been like, living off advil, so it might be messed up :P who knows, though?_**

**_Like I said, the next chapter is all typed up, so review review review!_**


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N: I'm back, my pretties! Sorry I took so long to update :P I hope you'll all like this chapter, because I think that it's pretty darn good! XD_**

**_Follow me on twitter! iloveMagnusB081 :) it was iloveJace081, but I changed it :P_**

**_Also, check out my new MI oneshot, "Hiding My Heart Away" :)_**

**_~I Heart Herondale Boys_**

Make You Feel My Love  
~Chapter Five: Nightmare~

"Jace!" Isabelle called from somewhere close, startling them. They broke apart, shocked expressions on their faces. Jace heard Alec call for him next, and sighed. He scooped Clary up in his arms, and they went to find the others.

"Jace! Oh, you found Clary!" Isabelle exclaimed, looking relieved. Then, a dark eyebrow shot up. "Why does she have your shirt on?" Then, with closer inspection, she gasped. "And why is she covered in bruises?"

Clary cleared her throat. "Well, my dress was destroyed, and, um, I'll explain the rest back at the house," she replied, shivering. Jace held her tighter, and she smiled appreciatively at him.

"Why not now?" Alec asked.

Jace shot him a look. "Just not now, Alec."

Alec nodded in understanding, but stupid goddamn Ratface wouldn't let it go. "What happened, Clary?" he demanded.

Clary sighed. "Please, Simon, not now. I-I can't talk about it right now," she said quietly, her green eyes pleading with him to understand.

Simon looked angry. "Fine. Whatever. Call me when—or if—you're ready," he said before storming off.

"Simon!" Clary called weakly, but he didn't stop.

Clary began to cry softly into Jace's chest. He rocked her slowly, trying to calm her.

"Come on, let's get her home so you two can explain," Isabelle said softly. Jace nodded, and they made their way home.

~MYFML~

When they got back, Jace left Clary on her own to get changed, which she was grateful for. She needed time to gather her thoughts.

She'd almost been raped. _Raped._ The thought was terrifying, and she was still shaken. She was sure she'd have nightmares about it.

Those men had been trying to take her to someone named Valentine. She'd never heard the name in her life, and all she could picture when she thought of it was a ridiculous little Cupid or hearts.

Jace had kissed her—well, she kissed him, but that was beside the point. He'd made her feel warm and tingly on the inside, and she liked it.

Simon hadn't given her a chance to explain back here at the house, and stormed off. She was still clueless about how to fix that.

It had surely been an eventful day for her.

She pulled her favorite, holey pyjamas pants on, not bothering to change out of Jace's shirt. It was warm and it smelled like him. She pulled her still straight hair into a ponytail, wincing as she touched the back of her head. She looked in the mirror and gasped.

For the first time, she saw the bruises that dotted her skin, looking like angry ink splatters. One on her cheek stood out, seeing as it was hand shaped. Her bottom lip was split. Her arms were covered in bruises.

Groaning, she left the room.

She found the others in the kitchen. They gasped as they saw her in full light, taking in her battered appearance.

"Living room," Isabelle said, handing Clary a cup of chamomile tea. She grabbed her elbow and led her to a spacious living room, sitting her down on one of the couches. She sat on the couch opposite Clary's couch, soon joined by Alec.

Jace settled in beside Clary, resting a hand on her thigh in a comforting gesture.

Clary sighed. "I guess I'd better start from the beginning."

"Sounds like a good idea," replied Jace, rubbing soothing circles into her leg.

She sighed again. "He took me from the bathroom and knocked me out. When I came to, I asked where he was taking me, but all he'd say was 'Valentine would very much like to finally meet you, Clarissa.' I didn't know how he knew my name, or who Valentine was. I _still_ don't. When I asked who Valentine was, he wouldn't tell me."

Alec, Jace and Isabelle exchanged a look.

"What?" Clary asked. "Do you guys know something about this?"

"Um, Clary, now might not be the best time . . ." Isabelle murmured.

"Just continue with your story," Alec added.

Nodding, she continued. "He dragged me into an alley," she said, voice trembling. Jace held out his hand to her, and she gladly took it, squeezing. "He pinned me down and started . . . touching me." A wave of revulsion swept through Clary, and she had to close her eyes and take deep breaths to calm herself. "He tore my dress, and I-I begged him to stop. He wouldn't though, he wouldn't stop . . .

"Then, I heard Jace's voice, and I called out to him. The guy slapped me really hard"—she touched a hand to her cheek—"and I flew into the wall. I think I must have blacked out for a few minutes, because when I woke up, Jace was holding me and I had his shirt on. The guy was knocked out a few feet away." She squeezed Jace's hand gently. "He saved me from being raped."

Silence followed Clary's story, no one able to think of something to say.

Finally, Isabelle spoke. "Oh my God, Clary . . . are you okay?" she asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," Clary replied honestly. "A little sore, but I'm fine."

"That's good. You're lucky that Jace got there when he did, though," Alec said quickly.

Clary glanced at Jace and found him looking at her. "I know," she replied, not taking her eyes off him.

Jace wrapped his arm comfortingly around her shoulders, rubbing the skin of her arm with his thumb.

They stayed there for a bit longer before they decided to go to bed. Clary was especially tired, and starting to get a major headache.

Jace walked her to her room, stopping in the doorway.

Clary turned to face him. "Thanks again, Jace. For . . . everything," she said, reaching out to lay her hand on his forearm.

Jace grinned. "No problem. Remember? Saving girls on the streets of New York from muggers is my specialty."

Clary giggled and pushed him lightly. "I guess it is."

Jace's face suddenly turned serious. "Clary, I can stay with you tonight if you want me to," he said earnestly.

Clary cracked a smile. "Trying to get into my bed, Herondale?"

Jace rolled his eyes, but smiled. "I'd sleep on the floor, Fray." Then, he added, "Unless you want me in your bed . . ." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Sleep where you want, Jace. Whether it's your room, my floor, my bed . . ." she trailed off, giggling.

"Is that a formal invitation?"

"Maybe," she replied with a wink.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Clarissa Fray is actually bold!"

"Shut up or I'll rescind the invitation."

"Ooh, rescind . . . such an intellectual word! You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

She gave him the finger and slammed the door in his face. She heard his muffled protests, but she didn't care. She was physically and emotionally drained, and _so_ not in the mood to banter.

She walked over to the big bed—she had a hard time believing it was actually hers—and curled up under the duvet.

The day's events started bearing down on her, and she couldn't stop the tears from falling.

_She was walking down an unfamiliar street. Snow fell all around her, and cold wind lashed at her face. She shivered, rubbing her bare arms for friction. She was wearing the dress from earlier, so she had no protection from the cold._

_Suddenly, she heard smooth laughter coming from behind her. It chilled her far more than the wind, though she didn't know why._

_She was grabbed around the waist from behind, and she screamed. She thrashed wildly, trying to free herself._

_He dragged her into an alley and threw her roughly on the ground, making her cry out in pain._

_She looked up and saw his face for the first time._

_He looked to be around her age. His halo of white-blond hair was falling into his eyes. His skin was a creamy white. His eyes were black as coals. He was beautiful, other than the cruel smirk on his face._

_He took a step toward her, and she hastily scrambled backward. This only made him laugh more._

_Her back hit a wall, and she panicked. He laughed manically at her fear._

"What do you want?" _she asked fearfully, tears prickling her eyes._

"You,"_ he replied smoothly before pouncing._

She was roughly shaken awake, still screaming. Without thinking, her arm flew out and connected with something warm and hard.

"Ouch! Dammit, Clary, it's me!" Jace hissed, rubbing the side of his head where her forearm hit.

She sagged with relief. "Jace," she whispered.

His golden eyes bore into hers. "Are you okay?" he asked, the pain in his head seemingly forgotten.

She nodded shakily. "It was just a dream. A bad one."

"I gathered that much," he said sarcastically, then sighed. "Was it about tonight?" he asked.

"Kind of, I guess."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head. "It's fine."

He didn't look convinced, but decided not to push her.

Suddenly, she heard a thump, followed by laughter outside her door. She turned her head to find Alec in a heap on the floor, tangled in blankets, with Isabelle laughing at him.

"It's not funny, Izzy!" Alec whined, pouting.

Isabelle snorted. "Of course it's funny." Then, she turned to Clary. "Okay, I see that you're not dead, so I'm going back to bed. Goodnight, sweet dreams, whatever," she said, walking away.

Alec pulled himself up off the floor. "Everything okay?" he asked, peering around her room.

"Yeah, it was just a dream. Thank you for checking on me, Alec," Clary said, smiling.

He waved his hand dismissively. "No problem. If you don't mind, though, I'm going back to bed."

"Go ahead," Clary replied.

Alec left, stifling a yawn.

"Were you sleeping outside my door?" she asked Jace.

He nodded. "I wanted to be close in case you needed me," he replied.

Clary was touched. "Jace, that has got to be the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me. Thank you."

He grinned. "No problem, Clare. And, hey, don't tell anyone that I'm not a complete bastard. I have a reputation to uphold," he said, grinning crookedly.

"Your secret's safe with me," she whispered.

Jace started to get up, but Clary grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"Back out to the hallway. I need my beauty sleep, because all of this"—he gestured to himself—"doesn't just happen naturally." He paused. "Well, it does, but it doesn't hurt to have a little extra boost."

Clary rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. Stay here."

His golden eyes flicked down to her green ones. "You sure?"

"Positive," she replied firmly.

Shrugging, he slipped under the covers with her.

"Night, Jace," she said, yawning.

"Goodnight, Clare."

~MYFML~

Jace stayed awake long after Clary had gone to sleep. He felt the overwhelming need to protect her, even from bad dreams. So he watched vigilantly, but she slept soundly.

She'd unconsciously curled into him, her puff of red hair tickling his chin. He held her close and stroked her hair.

He would protect Clary from anything and everything. Especially from her father, Valentine.

The one thing that Jace had never told anyone was that Valentine had been his foster father, as his own parents had died when he was a baby. As a child, he had looked up to Valentine and had been friends with Valentine's son, Jonathan, but as he grew older, he grew to hate them.

One day, when Jace was twelve, he'd gone home to find that Valentine and Jonathan had left. There had been a note telling him to go to the Lightwoods' home, though he had no idea who they were. But he had no other options, since he had no family. So he packed his bags with whatever he could get his hands on and showed up on the doorstep of the Lightwoods' home, and they welcomed him in with open arms. He'd become fast friends with their son, Alec. He now saw Robert and Maryse as his parents, and Alec, Isabelle and Max as his siblings. He thought of himself mostly as Jace Lightwood, though he sometimes still referred to himself as Jace Herondale, his true last name. But never, _ever_ as Jace Morgenstern.

Jace knew what Valentine was like. He lived with him for over ten years. He was trained to fight by Valentine, and was taught different battle tactics and strategies. He knew exactly how Valentine worked. And what he was capable of. So he knew exactly what he had to protect her from. He knew _how_ to protect her.

As he thought about all of this, he let his eyes wander around the room. They landed on an open sketchbook, and it was laying on the floor beside the bed. Carefully, he reached down to pick it up.

Using his phone as a light, he looked at the picture on the open page. With a start, he saw that it was a drawing of _him._ The detail was amazing, especially the giant angel wings that sprouted from his back.

As he stared at the picture, all he could think was, _Wow, this is amazing!_

After a while, his eyelids started to droop, and he laid the sketchbook back on the floor.

He kissed Clary lightly on the forehead and pulled her tighter to his chest, holding her gently and tenderly.

No, he'd never let anything happen to her again.

_**Did you guys like it? Let me know in a review :D**_

_**Remember to follow me on twitter :)**_

_**Until next time, my pretties!**_

_**~Sarah**_


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N: I got some really great reviews! Thank you guys so much for taking the time to leave them :)_**

**_Please check out my new series of oneshots, "26", and my oneshot, "Hiding My Heart Away". I promise you'll love them! Also, please check out my new story, "Don't You Remember?" It's really good, I promise :D_**

**_~I Heart Herondale Boys~_**

Make You Feel My Love  
~Chapter Six: Bet~

Valentine Morgenstern was not a patient man, nor was he merciful.

Pangborn and Blackwell stood in front of him, shaking in fear in response to Valentine's anger.

"You're both worthless, incompetent worms. How hard is it to bring me my daughter?" he asked angrily.

Pangborn, who was more battered than Blackwell, answered shakily. "Sir, we're sorry. It's just this boy who keeps meddling . . . he's strong."

Valentine's eyebrow shot up. "A boy? You were beaten by a _boy_?"

"Not a young boy," Blackwell clarified, glaring at Pangborn. "Probably around the age of your daughter. Little golden boy."

"I heard her say that his name was Jace," Pangborn added helpfully.

Valentine showed none of his shock that he felt at the name. So his seemingly worthless former foster son wasn't worthless after all . . . but he was annoying as ever.

"Irrelevant. Since you two are such dimwits and you clearly aren't capable of your assignment, Jonathan will be taking over. You two are lucky that I'm even sparing your lives," he said menacingly. "Leave, now. I can't stand to look at the two of you maggots right now."

And so they left, thanking him for being so merciful. He almost snorted; he wouldn't be so forgiving next time they messed up.

Leaning back in his chair, Valentine pondered the fact that his former foster son was somehow connected with his daughter now. He couldn't imagine how, unless the cowardly bitch sent her to live with the Lightwoods.

Valentine felt nothing but hate for Jocelyn Garroway. She'd taken their young daughter away from him, though she hadn't managed to take her son. Jonathan was Valentine's son through and through, with none of Jocelyn's personality. He was level-headed, calculating, and ruthless.

And there was the matter of her marrying Luke, his childhood best-friend, so soon after she'd left him. Valentine hated Luke just as much.

Jonathan came striding in, smirking. "The losers told me you wanted me, father?" he said.

"Yes, son. I need you to do something for me. Listen carefully to what I'm about to tell you." Jonathan nodded. "I'm going to need you to gain the trust of your sister without Jace knowing. If he has even the slightest inkling that I'm behind the kidnapping attempts, he'll be on high alert."

"_Jace_ is the reason behind the failed attempts?" Jonathan asked, snorting.

Valentine nodded.

"Somehow, I find that hard to believe."

"Jonathan, you must remember that he received the same training as you did. He is capable of many things, just as much as you are."

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "I'm better than he could ever dream of being. But, I will do what is asked of me, and I promise you that he'll never know it was me. I'll dye my hair, get color contacts, something to disguise myself," he assured him.

"Good. And, Jonathan, do not fail me. I don't have the time or patience for more failure."

"I won't fail."

~MYFML~

Clary awoke the next morning to Jace's arm lightly draped around her waist. His face was buried in her hair, and she could hear his soft snores.

She didn't want to wake him, but she desperately had to pee. Gently, she shook him, and he was instantly alert.

"What? What is it? Are you okay?" His words came out in a jumbled flurry, slightly slurred from sleep.

Clary laughed. "I'm fine, Jace. Everything's okay. But I really have to pee, and, well, I can't really get up." She gestured to his arm around her, and he chuckled, pulling her closer.

"Fight your way out," he said, smirking.

"Jace, you know damn well that I'm not half as strong as you are. Unless you want me to pee on your leg, I suggest you remove your arm from around me."

Laughing, he let her go, and she ran into her own personal bathroom.

When she came out, she nearly laughed.

Jace had fallen back to sleep, sprawled across her bed.

She pulled the blanket higher on him so that he wouldn't get cold, kissed his forehead, then headed down to the kitchen to hunt for some breakfast.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, her nostrils were assailed with a horrible smell. As she kept going, she realized that it was coming from the kitchen.

She found Isabelle standing at the stove, a puff of smoke curling around her face. Coughing, she emptied the contents of the frying pan onto a plate.

"Um, Isabelle, might I ask what you're trying to cook?" Clary asked.

Isabelle scowled. "It was supposed to be peanut-butter, strawberry, blueberry and cheese pancakes, but I burned them," she replied sullenly.

"Uh . . . I'm sure they would have been . . . good?"

Isabelle glared at her. "You're lying. You think I'm a horrible cook and you're just trying to spare my feelings."

When Clary didn't answer, Isabelle stalked out of the kitchen.

Alec poked his head into the kitchen. "Is it safe?" he asked, peering around.

"What do you mean?" Clary asked.

"Is Izzy gone?"

Clary chuckled. "Yeah. I think I might have insulted her," she replied.

Alec walked in and sighed, sitting down. "Izzy is talented at everything . . . except for cooking. It's kind of a sore spot for her, because she tries so hard."

Clary nodded in understanding. "But . . . what are we going to eat?"

Alec smiled. "Get Jace. We can go to Taki's," he said.

"Okay . . . are you going to ask Isabelle to come?"

"I'd better, or else she'll get mad at me."

Splitting up, they headed off to get Jace and Isabelle.

~MYFML~

They were all on their way to Taki's, and Isabelle was still sullen.

"God, Izzy, lighten up! I mean, you already know how much you suck at cooking, so it shouldn't surprise you to hear it from Clary," Jace said, grinning.

Isabelle glared, and Clary smacked him in the chest. "Leave her alone, Jace. And I'm sure that her food wouldn't be _that_ bad."

Alec snickered, and Isabelle turned her glare on him. He instantly sobered up.

As they walked, Clary noticed Isabelle texting someone, but didn't ask who. It wasn't her business.

When they arrived at Taki's, they got a booth in the back and waited to be served.

Clary heard the bell that meant that someone opened the door, and peered around. She was shocked to find Simon come through the door and make his way over to them.

She smiled sheepishly at him. She wasn't sure how mad at her that he was. "Hey, Simon."

He smiled back, which she took as a good sign. "Hey, Clary." He sighed. "Listen, I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have acted like I did. I guess that I was just . . . I dunno mad that you didn't tell me that you had to live with these people. But Izzy explained everything to me over the phone last night, and now I see how stupid and mean I was. Forgive me?"

"Of course! I was terrified that you were going to stay mad at me, and you're my best friend, so I wouldn't have known what to do if you would've because I need you and you've always been there for me—"

"Whoa, Clary. Slow down," Simon said, grinning. "Don't worry, because I'll always be here for you."

"How nice. I think I might have shed a tear," Jace said dramatically, pretending to wipe his eye.

Clary laughed and elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't be sarcastic, Herondale."

"Why not? Sarcasm is the best invention ever," he replied breezily, grinning at her.

"Do you have a response for everything?" she asked.

"Hmm . . . yep. I've never been speechless in any situation, because my wit is so amazingly awesome."

Clary smirked. "I bet you twenty dollars that I could make you speechless."

Jace snorted, while Simon laughed. "I'll put ten dollars on Clary."

"Me too," Alec said.

"Count me in," Isabelle said, grinning.

"Well, prepare to lose your money, because I'm not losing this bet," Jace said confidently.

Clary scoffed. "You need to be brought down a few notches, I think," Clary told him.

"As if. I'm perfectly fine—"

Clary cut him off by crushing her lips to his. Gasps were heard from all around the table.

Clary ran her hands over Jace's chest, and he leaned into her.

Smiling, she pulled away abruptly and her hand whipped up, connecting with his face so fast that he didn't see it coming.

Jace sat, gaping like a fish. His hand reached up to rest on his reddening cheek.

Isabelle and Alec high-fived her, while Simon looked absolutely pissed.

"I have to go," he muttered. He stalked off without another word, leaving more than just Jace speechless.

"Someone's PMSing," Jace said, eyebrows raised.

**_Hahahaha I love that ending XD_**

**_Did you guys like the chapter? Favorite part, least favorite part, part that needs improvement? Let me know your thoughts in a review :)_**

**_Remember to check out my story and my oneshots :)_**

**_Until next time!_**

**_~Sarah~_**


	7. Chapter 7

_To all of my readers._

_It's been a while, eh? It pains me to say that this isn't an update, and this isn't good news. I posted an explanation for why I've been gone so long at the top of my profile, but I don't really think people have been looking so I figured I'd just make a note to you all._

_This fanfiction account…it's done. This isn't my life anymore—my interests have shifted, and the stuff I used to write about just isn't me anymore. I'm sorry I didn't let you all know sooner…I feel terrible, like I've led you all on and given you false hope. I never, ever thought this would happen, and I didn't want it to, but it has. I just…I can't write about this stuff anymore—my heart isn't in it._

_When I started this fanfiction account at the age of thirteen or fourteen (I think? I can't remember, it was just so long ago…) I had big hopes and dreams of becoming a writer. My writing skills were a little (okay more than a little) rough around the edges, but the drive and desire to write was there and I wanted to be better. This site has improved my skills immensely—it's easy to see when comparing my early works to the later ones. It was you, the readers, who made that happen. Without you, I wouldn't have had the desire to continue my stories, and I would have been stuck with mediocre writing skills. So I'd just like to take a minute and thank everyone who has ever read, reviewed, favorited and followed a story or oneshot of mine. I owe you all so much._

_I remember how excited I was when Together Forever started becoming popular. It seemed so surreal, that people wanted to read what I wrote—that I evoked real emotion from people I didn't even know. That was such a great reward, guys, and I'll treasure that feeling forever. It made me start to expand my writing; it was then that I started branching out into different categories and making a name for myself. The two years that I wrote stories on this account carry some of my fondest memories, especially when I think about the people I had the pleasure of getting to know. These people drove me to do better, to write more, and I'm so thankful for that because writing is and always will be one of my favorite things to do._

_So, explanation time, I guess._

_I guess things started going downhill for me when the reviews started to decline—I realize now that I was review-hungry, and I hate that I was ever like that. I didn't realize that, even though I wasn't getting as many reviews as I was before, there were still people that were reviewing and faithfully waiting for new chapters. Thinking about it now…it just makes me sad. I'm sorry that I didn't fully appreciate you guys, it's one of my biggest regrets. But it happened, and I can't change it. The decline in reviews resulted in a decline in my motivation to continue writing, and then I just spent so much time not writing or reading that new things filled the spaces in my heart. I started seriously drawing and painting, and getting back into video games, and now I don't read so much anymore, as terrible as that sounds._

_But that doesn't mean I don't still write._

_I just write about different things now. No more Vampire Academy, Mortal Instruments, Infernal Devices, etc., though each of those still holds a very special place in my heart. Now, I write about the things that interest me, like Kingdom Hearts and Zelda and Pokemon. They have always been my true loves, for much longer than books. And though I'll always feel terrible about abandoning this account…it's time that I move on. This phase of my life has been over for some time now, and it's time I formally said goodbye._

_I can never say sorry enough for doing this to you, the readers who have given me so much. But I hope that my stories made you laugh and smile and just _feel_, because that's what I set out to do. Thank you again for sticking by me through erratic update schedules, temper tantrums, sad stories and insane plot twists. I'd especially like to thank _Nicia_, who became a good friend, and also _she lives in a daydream_, in whom I found a great friend that shared my interests and occasionally dealt with rants and obsessive book talk. There are many others I could name, but that would take waaaaay too long. So thank you, all of you—you made my early teenage life exciting and fun by wanting to read my stories._

_Perhaps you'll come across me again, sometime in the future, with stories on a different account about different things. Maybe you'll know it's me, maybe you won't haha. But if you do, feel free to point it out to me—I'd love that._

_With many sorries and thank-yous,_

_Sarah._


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